


Time

by sheiruki



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27033835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheiruki/pseuds/sheiruki
Summary: In the dead of night, Rashkan worries about the future.
Relationships: Savos Aren/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	Time

**Author's Note:**

> Working on the next chapter of ACoS sent me into a downward spiral of shippy thoughts, so I wrote a little something to let it all out. Set after "How it began" (https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584193) but doesn't really require knowledge of those stories, although this humble author would be delighted if you decided to read them as well ;-).

Midnight had long passed, and yet, Rashkan was lying wide awake, staring at the ceiling - hardly anything unusual; like all vampires, he too was nocturnal. What was strange, however, was him lying in the archmage's quarters, in the archmage's very own bed, next to said archmage no less. He wondered if he would ever get used to waking up beside Savos or if it was always going to feel as though it were a false awakening, as though, if Rashkan closed and then reopened his eyes, he would find himself in his chambers, alone.

He turned over and observed his beloved. 

Untied, Savos' beard almost reached his chest, rising and falling with every breath and every soft snore. His shoulder-length hair spread over his pillow in thin wisps. Once, it might have been a dark, rich brown, but time had left its mark, covered it in grey like a layer of dust. His face too had aged: deep wrinkles and the occasional faint scar painted a picture of a long life that had led him through many ups and downs. More downs, visibly. 

Time.

It stung as if someone had plunged a needle into Rashkan's heart. 

Careful not to wake the soundly sleeping archmage, he shuffled closer, pulling himself up to place a kiss on Savos' temple before letting his head rest on his chest.

The drumlike, steady rhythm of his heart, though comforting, could not banish the dread spreading through Rashkan's chest. He closed his eyes, fingers gently trailing along the frayed collar of the archmage's favourite nightshirt. Just as he was about to doze off, a hand found its way into his hair.

"You're heavy." 

"Savos… Apologies, I did not want to wake you." 

"It's alright," he mumbled, lazily threading his fingers through long black strands. "Is something the matter?"

Rashkan wrapped his arms around Savos, nuzzling his head against the soft tundra cotton of his nightshirt.

"Nothing important. It is just…" He hesitated, tightening his embrace. "You are old."

"Flattering," Savos deadpanned and let go of Rashkan's hair. "Is that a problem for you?" He asked with no small measure of uncertainty. "Do you think I'm unattractive?"

Rashkan's head shot up, his gaze meeting those ever-sad crimson eyes.

"No! Goodness no, Savos," he leaned forward to capture the archmage's lips in a swift, sweet kiss. "You look fine the way you are."

A playful smile appeared on Savos' face. 

"Unkempt, tired and overall dishevelled?" He chuckled.

"You know what I mean," groaned Rashkan. "No, that is not the problem. Just..." He sighed. "I wish I had met you when I first came to Winterhold all those years ago. To think that we could have had so much more time together..."

Savos brushed a few black streaks out of Rashkan's face, humming in the process.

"You make it sound as if I'm going to drop dead soon."

"Well, you are-"

"Old, yes. Rub it in will you," Savos chided. "I'm in good health, though. Besides," he raised his head and his voice. "I don't think things would have worked out between us back then; we were very different people, both struggling with our demons."

There it was, that deeply melancholic undertone Rashkan so desperately wanted to banish from the archmage's voice, but could he? Would prying get Savos to open up? Or only cause him to withdraw further? It was a gamble Rashkan was not willing to make - at least, not right now. Instead, he cosied up next to his beloved, tossing the blankets over both of them. 

"I suppose you are right about us not having been compatible back then; I mean, when I told you about my departure from Solstheim you outright called me a horrible person," he mused, turning his back to Savos so that he did not have to see the old mer's reaction.  
"Still...," he hesitated. So many different thoughts, so many different feelings were racing through his mind, and yet, he had no words to express any of them. Eventually, his train of thought came to a screeching halt when the archmage's arm snaked around his torso. 

"You're such a worrywart," Savos murmured, pulling him into his embrace. "Try to sleep, my dear, we still have plenty of time."

Rashkan took Savos' hand, fingers intertwined, and closed his eyes.

"I wholeheartedly hope you are right about that."


End file.
